


stay still, stay silent

by psithurism



Series: Space BFFs [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Trailer, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Space Bffs, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony and Nebula comforting each other, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 11:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17324375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psithurism/pseuds/psithurism
Summary: Why is the measure of love loss?Tony and Nebula, drifting in space.





	stay still, stay silent

**Author's Note:**

> 90% sequel to Not as Lost Violent Souls, inspired by the Endgame trailer.

_Why is the measure of love loss?_   
—Jeanette Winterson, _Written on the Body_

 

1.

In the spaces between waking and dreaming, there’s a question that carves itself that Tony—try as he might—cannot ignore.

He’s awake more than he’s asleep, because there are a lot of things to do and there’s still the universe to save. Except a not-so-inconsiderable part of him knows that he’s desperately running away from that certain question, afraid of examining so closely the implications and its unavoidable conclusion.

But when he sleeps, he dreams, and it’s always the same dream:

The precise pressure of Peter’s arms around him, of Peter’s weight as Tony lays him down to the ground. Peter’s voice, soft and broken, breath stuttering, and it’s as if something has yanked Tony’s heart out of its ribcage and he couldn’t put it back properly again.

He wakes up gasping, Peter’s name escaping from his lips, and the palpable absence is so unbearable that Nebula has to grit her teeth from the vise-grip Tony has on her hand.

“Tony, look at me,” Nebula says, and Tony’s head snaps up. “We will bring them back.”

“Right. I—” Tony breathes, counts, and slowly releases Nebula’s hand, patting it twice before retreating altogether. He gets up, wobbling a bit. “I’ll go check our supplies.”

He doesn’t look back to see what Nebula’s expression is, but this isn’t the first time it happened, so he knows anyway.

  


2.

Strange’s words have become a broken record in his head, infinitely looping, and somewhere down the line they have gained a fractured quality in them. But despite that, it’s a mantra Tony takes to heart, because if you say something over and over it acquires the value of truth.

He remembers saying something similar, which _has_ turned out to be true.

“Earth is still a long way from here.” Tony glances at the coordinates on the screen. “Benatar wouldn’t last the trip.”

“The closest way station will still take us weeks—”

“And weeks we don’t have.” Tony blinks, and his gaze drops down. “We’re running out of food. After that, I’d give myself a week, but by then, oxygen supply would probably have run out as well.”

Nebula clenches her fists. Her frustrations have always manifested as rough, grating silence. Inexplicably, Tony thinks of Rhodey, and his wry, easy grace under pressure.

“My sister—Quill and the others—they could have come up with—” Nebula bites down the sentence, but Tony can fill in the blanks. He understands.

“Hey,” he says, gentle. “Like Doctor Strange said: this is the endgame. There’ll be a way. We’ll make it through this.”

Nebula nods, and she, too, clings to the solace of a dead man’s words.

  


3.

In his moments of solitude, Tony wonders if things would have been different had he made the call.

For the last two years, the burner phone had become a fixture in Tony’s life: always on his person, a signifier of all the mistakes and their consequences, but also of reconciliation, however inchoate. It’s a way of telling Tony that Steve still values him as a teammate. As a friend. When Tony lost the phone in the midst of Black Order’s invasion, did that mean the loss of opportunity for forgiveness?

Captain America. Steve Rogers. Steadfast and indomitable. Even in his resentment Tony still believes in him.

But then again, perhaps it would be no different after all: they’d still lose, just only together.

  


4.

On the fourth day, he remembers his mother.

When Nebula places a hand on his shoulder, a comfort, an assurance, the flash of a memory lodges itself in Tony’s head: Maria’s smile, her hands warm and safe on his. Her voice, round and mellifluous, calling his name, _Oh, Tony, love,_ like it’s always the last time they’d see each other.

“How much do you think it hurt, the—you know?” Tony says.

Nebula pauses.

“You know—” There’s a scratch on his throat, and Tony swallows. “Kid looked like—he said—”

His eyes sting. His breath shudders at the memory.

“Why am I still here? Why them?”

“Tony.”

“I tried. I tried everything to prevent this, and yet—”

The grip on his shoulder tightens, and Tony recalls that Nebula, too, has someone precious taken away from her. He inhales, slow and steady. Exhales.

“We’re still here because it will be us who will avenge them. I won’t stop until Thanos will pay, I promise you that.”

 _Oh, Tony, love,_ and Tony wishes he could have said something better in those two diverging moments of his life. But right now, all he can do is transmute the memories, the regrets into conviction. The only option is to move forward.

“Okay. I’ll hold you to that.”

Nebula squeezes once, then lets go.

  


5.

Part of the journey is the end, and Tony knows—bone-deep in its clarity—that time is running out.

He makes preparations, slow and halting due to hunger, and calculates the time until the ship runs out of oxygen. Nebula looks at him as though she wants to say something, but she doesn’t, and the pillar-strength of her bearing still reassures him. Hope is not a plan but the first step, and yet, sometimes, one has to learn the dignity of accepting the inevitable.

Tony gazes at his helmet, the blue glow of its eyeslits faint but unyielding.

“It’s always you,” he whispers.

Later, just a few hours before they lose their oxygen supply, Tony and Nebula watch the vast, empty space together, the silence like a pall in its steadying calm. In the distance, something twinkles.

“Rest, Tony,” Nebula says, soft. “Save your energy.”

 _A sunset would have been better than this abyss_ _,_ he likes to say, but Tony only hums in reply.

“Let me handle things for a while.”

As Nebula gets up to check on the controls, Tony leans back on his seat, and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> It feels nice to write something again lol


End file.
